


Veracity

by jazzycantbreathe



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan Howell and Phil Lester Are Not YouTubers, Gay, Goth Phil Lester, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Marijuana, Self-Harm, The Cure (Band) References, The Smiths References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22502365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzycantbreathe/pseuds/jazzycantbreathe
Summary: "She was supposed to love me, to protect me, but all she did was hide the veracity of her past, and taught me how to do the same."
Relationships: Chris Kendall/PJ Liguori, Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Relapse

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy lmaoo also major trigger warning, suicide attempt, self harm, abuse, and description of wounds. If you feel like there's more, PLEASE TELL MEEE thanks bros ♥️

DAN

The moment I came home from school, my mother immediately started to sink her teeth into my already fragile self-esteem. Telling me how stupid I am, and how I'll never be "a real man" I didn't even do anything this time.  
Perhaps her boyfriend pissed her off. It's not like I can ask, she's been lying to us about him since I was 10 years old. Moving on from that, I'm fed up with her. She's right about everything she says of course, but it'd be nice if she didn't constantly remind me of how disgusting I am every 5 minutes. It's tiring. Why the hell am I still standing in the kitchen? I decided to just go to my room for the time being. I mean, what the hell can I do to about her? I'm just some dumb 17 year old boy.  
~  
My room is the only part of our old, cheap house that I can actually appreciate. I covered the walls with my drawings, and had around 147 books crammed into a small shelf. It was a tiny, dingy room, but I strung fairy lights across my twin-size bed, and painted the walls a comforting blueish grey colour in order to hide that fact. My bed had an all black duvet, and a fluffy brown blanket that my father got me from up North.  
Sitting down on my bed, I started to play some music on my speakers. I don't know when I began to cry, but before I knew what was happening, tears were flowing down my face, onto my trousers.  
_Drink up baby_  
_Stay up all night with the things you could do_  
_You won't but you might_  
_The potential you'll be_  
_That you'll never see..._  
God. Elliott Smith gets me every time. I started crying a little harder and accidentally let out a strangled sob.  
I know she heard that. What's wrong with me? Oh God. She heard and she's going to walk in and beat me. Shit shit shit. I can physically feel myself delving into a panic attack. My mind is going a million different directions and I didn't notice the sounds coming out of my mouth. I started rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my cheeks. I'm going to die. I know it. She's going to stab me, and I'm going to- _tap. tap. tap._ I immediately went into fight or flight mode when I heard the quick, sharp footsteps of my mother. I turned off the speakers, and grabbed my desk chair and put it under the door handle. The lock on my door was already broken, but that's a story for another time.  
She was closer now. The once light taps of her shoes sounded more like heavy stomps the closer she got to my door. "DANIEL WHAT WAS THAT NOISE?! GET YOUR BLOODY ARSE OVER HERE AND OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" I yelped the moment I heard her voice, yet I did nothing. I was frozen in fear. Her voice became low, and she hissed out her next few words. "I advise you to open this door Daniel, you have no idea what I'm capable of." My breathing got faster, and I started spiraling into another attack.  
In order to save myself, I let up, and opened the door. I was met with a knife in my mother's hand, and a cocky grin. "Now there's a good boy. Move out of the doorway." I obeyed, and allowed her into my room. She was fuming. "I cook for you, I put clothes on your back, I paid for this little set up you have here and yet you can't even keep it clean?!?" She said, addressing the few possessions I had strewn across my room.  
With each word she moved closer, and backed me up against my closet door. She thankfully had already put the knife down on my dresser. She started yelling again. I numbed myself while I could, and let it all pass over my head. It's when she moved to my wall and grabbed the edge my biggest drawing (about 2½ metres tall, and 1 metre across) that I finally spoke up. "Ma please!" I started begging. "I'll take everything down just please! Not that one..."  
It was the drawing I was most proud of. It had a boy in an astronaut suit sitting on an old telephone booth with thick, flat vines with no leaves on them strapping him to the booth. I did it for a mural at my school, and once they were done with it they gave it to me. Needless to say, it was extremely important to me. All she did was smirk, then she tore the entire thing from my wall. I fell to the floor, sobbing. She yelled at me to get up. I didn't move an inch. She forcefully grabbed my hair and pulled me up. I was heavier than she expected, and ended up falling again. She still didn't let my hair go, and instead took to kicking me in my side. Narrowly missing my ribs, she kicked me in my stomach.  
I fell onto my back and started coughing. I rolled over to protect my front, but she still kicked my back. I scrambled to my feet. "Please... Stop..." I begged after each blow to my torso. "I'M YOUR MOTHER, I CAN DO AS I PLEASE" she yelled before dealing me a final blow to my right cheek, almost on my nose. She must've ruptured a vein or something, because my nose started bleeding.  
Once she left, I tried to wipe my face of the blood, tears, and sweat that my mother forced my body excrete with a t-shirt that. I went to my desk and grabbed my "emergency box".  
I walked quietly into the bathroom and locked the door. I cried silently while emptying the box of its contents. Razors, hydrogen peroxide, small scissors, and medical tape. I looked into the mirror and looked at my face. Blue, yellow, and black formed in the shape of my mum's hand on my jaw, and I had a small cut close to my nose. I cleaned myself up, and started to put away the supplies when a metallic glint caught my eye. I brought the box back to my room. Once I sat on my bed and made sure the door was closed, I grabbed my razors. Premium Dorco blades with 2 paper wrappings over them to ensure you don't cut yourself while holding them because of how sharp they were.  
I opened one up, and stared at the rectangular weapon in my left hand. I've been 4 months clean. Is it really worth it? It is. I decided that I'm going to die tonight. That's it. The end. I can't fucking live like this. I have nowhere to go, nobody to rely on, it's time.  
I didn't bother with a note or anything, I just set to work. I pressed the blade to my right wrist first, and started to cut vertically. Sharp pains shot down my arm and I winced. I continued on until I reached my hand. I then watched the crimson liquid flow out of the deep, bright red crevice that I had made. I moved on to the next arm and completed the same procedure.  
I felt myself slipping... I will finally have peace.  
~  
I woke up a little disoriented, and with crusted over blood all over my t-shirt. Fuck. I'm still alive.  
I made a mistake by not taking a bath, or running the wounds under water. Perhaps I even missed the vein. The latter is more plausible, so I go with that.  
I was so caught up in my thoughts, that I didn't notice my mother walking into my room. I didn't have the energy to get scared, or even to listen to her, so I tuned out my mum's voice and waited for her to leave.  
Once she's gone, I grab my emergency box again, and set to cleaning up my wounds, and wrapping bandages around them.  
I decide to put a plaster on the cut on my face, and went to sleep.


	2. Birthed and Driven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again bros ♥️

PHIL

I heard the voice of my mum echoing through the corridor that led to my room. "Phillyyy" she said sounding a tad sing-songy. It was times like this that I felt the urge to laugh out loud at her antics. "I'm coming mum!" I yelled out from my room.  
I turned off my music, and walked to the kitchen. I knew what was going to happen before it did, so what they were yelling was a tiny bit ironic. "SURPRISE!!!" This time I actually did laugh out loud.  
There were my mum, dad, and older brother gathered into the small kitchen nook, with what seemed to be a hilariously flat cake in my dad's hands that read, _Happy Birthday little Philly!_ in lopsided letters with smeared balloons drawn around them.  
I actually teared up a bit when I saw my family's bright smiles. I love moments like these. My brother's home from uni, my parents are happier than ever, and everything is so...familiar, so warm.  
My parents eyes tear up a little as well. "Our boy is all grown up isn't he?" My dad says softly to my mum. She nods. Everyone is quiet for a few seconds. It's not awkward at all. It's comfortable.  
Then my mother breaks the silence. "Come to the table now boys! The food's going to get cold" We all walk to the table and start conversing.  
Our dinner is almost neglected in lieu of our talking. I feel so fortunate to have a family like this. I know that a lot of people don't have what I have, and maybe never will, so I appreciate my beautiful family.  
I suddenly feel the urge to voice this, so I do. "Mum, dad, Martyn. Thank you guys so much. I know that this is a very small get together, but I really appreciate everything you guys do for me. You're the best." "Aweeee little P has gone soft on us, hasn't he?" My brother says. My mum lightly slaps him on the shoulder. "Martyn, stop that. I think it's sweet" she says jokingly with a smile.

The night continues like this, with jokes and laughs, and overall, well, fuzziness. I go to my room and turn up the music a bit and lay down on my bed. Then I start hearing yelling. I shoot up from my bed and turn down the music.  
A deafening "DANIEL!!" is all I can make out. I look out of my window, and even though I really shouldn't, I look into my neighbor's. The curtain is drawn though, and all I can hear is muffled yelling.  
I manage to hear the words "stupid" and "die" so I have no idea what's going on in there. I decide to brush it off, and try to sleep even though it's only 7pm. I decided not to change, and just hopped into my bed.  
My 18th birthday went amazingly, and I'm not going to ruin it by being nosy. I fell asleep relatively quickly, and deeply.  
~

I woke up to my alarm a little less than 12 hours later, sweating. I groan and roll out of my hot bed. I stretch and yawn, feeling my back pop as I do so.  
I struggle out of the clothes that I fell asleep in, and pulled on some skinny jeans and a t-shirt.  
I really enjoy the lack of a uniform at my sixth form, since I don't have to wear a stupid blazer that's too big, a stupid tie, and stupid trousers that are too small. And those damn loafers!  
My internal monologue is cut short by my other alarm that's set just in case I turn off the first one.  
I stretch again and look into the mirror. I wore my black ripped skinny jeans, and faded shirt that read "The Cure" in their squiggly font. I pulled on my ruffled black trench coat and walked into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, and tousled with my hair a bit. I then put hair spray in it to make it a little stiff.  
I walk to the kitchen and it seems my mother has already left for work. Damn I really wanted to say good bye to her. Instead, I yell good bye to my dad and Martyn that are probably still asleep. There's a note from my mother on the fridge reading, "Sorry that I couldn't be here the morning after your birthday, but just know that I love you!

-Mum"  
I chuckled a bit at this and walked towards the front door. I went to the shoe holder thing or whatever it's called, grabbed my platforms, and pulled them on. I don't really know why I wear them, I'm already like 6'3, they make me almost 6'9. It doesn't really matter though, I like them and I think they look cool.  
A lot of people would describe my style as either grunge, goth, or punk. I just think it's just alternative, not really wanting to put a specific on it. People also say, "why do you dress that way? You seem so happy?" or "you look like a poof!" or just "ugh." It was whatever though, I liked my style and I'm going to stick with it.  
I grabbed my keys from the key holder on the wall next to the front door, and left. I locked the door behind me and walked to my car. I looked over to my neighbor's lawn and saw Daniel starting to walk to the bus stop. He always seemed so lonely, and I needed new friends anyways, so what better opportunity than this?  
I decided to invite him to come to school with me so he wouldn't have to walk as an excuse to talk to him. I adjusted my septum peircing, then walked slightly closer to him, and called out his name. "Daniel!" He yelped slightly and turned over to me, seeming a little scared.  
"Daniel, would you like to ride with me to school? The bus isn't very fun, and we're neighbors so it's a bit more efficient." He spoke quietly, and quickly, as if on a time limit. "I don't want to inconvenience you, Phil. I can walk." My heart melted a little. "No no no, I insist." I voiced.  
To my surprise, he nodded. That was a lot easier than I thought it would be. He walked to me, and followed me to my beat up, black, 2005 Mitsubishi Lancer.  
I then noticed his outfit. He was wearing a huge black jumper, with black skinny jeans. His nails were painted pink, and I could see that the shirt under his jumper was pink. Cute.  
I gestured for him to get into the passenger seat, but he bypassed the door, and instead went into the back. "Daniel, why don't you sit up in the front with me?" I asked. He blushed. "I don't want you to be bothered by me..." He whispered and trailed off. I immediately corrected him. "I could never be bothered by you, Daniel. Please just come into the passenger seat." I let out a small laugh after my sentiment, and he obliged.  
I smiled and went over to the driver's seat. I checked the mirrors, put on my seat belt, and turned my body in order to back up, but stopped completely when I got a good look at Daniel's face.  
There was a bright purple bruise on his jaw, and a small pink plaster on his right cheek. I decide not to confront him about it, and store it away for later.  
I back out onto the street, and start driving towards our sixth form. The drive is mostly silent, until Daniel speaks up.  
"Phil?"  
"Hmm?" I hum in response.  
"Can you call me Dan, please? I don't really like the name Daniel." He said with a hint of uncertainty.  
"Of course, Dani- D-Dan" wow great speech skills, Philip.  
"Thanks." He said quietly.  
I started attempting at conversation, but each one was shot down with one-worded answers, and "mhmm"s I decide to just put in a CD.  
At the next stoplight, I grab Three Imaginary Boys and put it into the CD player. 10:15 Saturday Night starts playing, and I hear Daniel, I mean Dan, start to hum along with the song. "You like The Cure?" I ask. He nods his head. Within that moment, I knew that I was in love.  
Okay, maybe love was an overstatement but still, I definitely was a lot more interested in Dan than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Tell me if you like it, if you don't, what I can do to improve it, blah blah blah :) also I don't really know when I decided to make Phil alt, it just happened lmao


	3. Leon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I took forever to update this, sorry lol. I just didn't really feel like the story was going anywhere but alas! A spark of inspiration. Enjoy!

PHIL

The ride to school was, unfortunately, a lot shorter than I would've liked it to be. During the brief, 15 minute drive to school after putting on The Cure, I learned more about Dan than probably the entirety of our class cared to know. I learned how passionately he felt about goth rock, how much he disliked school, especially the people in it, and his addiction to YouTube. You see, he was always in quiet solitude. He was constantly alone, and it made me feel quite sad. That's a major reason as to why I enjoy hearing him speak so much, it seems as though he never really got the chance to. That and he's extremely interesting. Nobody deserves to be so isolated, especially someone with so much light such as Dan. He was like the subtle shine of the moon during a gloomy night, his beauty a lot of the time going unnoticed, but is very much present. His soft-spoken, delicate words were like smooth honey to my ears. Every time he spoke everything else got shut out of my mind in favor of his small, flowery voice. Every time he laughed, I could feel mother nature weeping with joy. Perhaps I'm exaggerating here, but Dan was literally a spring night.

~

From then on out, I decided that I was going to be friends with Dan Howell. Now, instead of just feeling sad when I saw him alone, I will him. Despite the snickers I may receive from my classmates and the low-key not so low-key comments about me being gay for the rosy boy that I had taken a liking to by my friends, I will persist. I want to unlock the mystery that is Daniel James Howell. He is an enigma. He makes me think. I don't really know why it took so long for me to reach out to him. He is one of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was so kind, and quiet in the best of ways, and just so damn pre- A piece of paper then collided sharply with my ear interrupting my thoughts. I then made an audible noise of discomfort. The maths teacher glared at me, and I shrunk at her gaze. The moment she got back to lecturing, I grabbed the paper from the floor, flattened it out and read it. _I saw you walk in with Daniel Howell this morning, what was that about? Are you guys together, because you seemed really close this morning and I know you don't let just anyone in your car. Can we talk during our free period or something? - PJ (obviously)_ I groaned and received another glare from the teacher.

Once first hour was over and done with, PJ shot up out of his seat and waited patiently for me to gather my things so that we could head out. Once we walked out of the classroom Chris came and looped his arm around PJ's. They had a weird relationship, Chris and PJ. They swear they aren't together, then they hold hands in the corridor, kiss each other sober and in public, and hug for a way longer time than two "bros" would be comfortable doing. At this point, I feel like they're just fucking with everyone, perhaps even laughing at the fact that we somehow even slightly believe that they aren't together, or vice versa. Either way, all I know is that they're my best and only friends, and I love them, unfortunately. As we walked to the courtyard for our free period, I couldn't help but wonder what Dan was doing at the moment. Was he on his way to class? Maybe he also was free this period? Who knows. I sure as hell don't. Once we reached our "special spot" under one of the multiple trees lining the courtyard, Chris and PJ set about interrogating me about my relationship with Dan. I told them everything. About how we live next to each other and that I don't like seeing him alone, all of that good stuff. By the end of it, Chris loudly sighed. "Mate, I hate to say it but you're totally gone for this Dan character. You're absolutely lost for him and I'll tell you, this is entertaining for me" when Chris finished his spiel, grinning, I rolled my eyes and started to get slightly irritated. "I just want to be friends with him, Chris. Nothing more, nothing less." "Sure mate, sure," he said. "invite him to lunch with us Phil," PJ said considerately. "You know what, I think that's a grand idea," I stated.

As the day went on, I invited Dan to eat lunch with us. Thankfully he declined, probably due to the fact that everyone knew that I was friends with Chris and PJ, and they have quite a reputation. I don't blame him for not wanting to eat with us. I did want to show him that my friends weren't all bad, but that will come with some time. Especially since it's not too late to scare Dan off because of their inevitable deep-prodding and personal questioning that they'll probably already have planned. Chris and PJ were upset to hear that Dan declined, but ultimately came to the same conclusion that I did.

I managed to piece together Dan's schedule by the time the day was coming to a close, so I left my last hour early by saying that I needed the bathroom and waited outside of Dan's class. The second the bell rung, he was the first one out. He looked a little shocked to find me out there. "Dan, would you like a ride home? I'd hate for you to have to walk." I said with a bit of a smirk behind my voice. He seemed to be at a bit of a loss for words. He looked a little worried, almost to be contemplating the meaning of my words, or perhaps the consequences of accepting my offer. Nonetheless, his expression changed to one of warmth, and he gave a quick nod. I grinned. "Off we go then, Dan."

We walked to my car in comfortable silence. Once I turned the piece of junk on, The Cure was blasting out of the speakers, and Robert Smith's borderline pornographic singing spilled out of my car and into the busy parking lot. I started warbling along to Fire in Cairo while reversing out of my parking space, forgetting about the person in my passenger seat.

DAN

I watched Phil as he drove us home. He was everything I wanted to be, carefree, creative, and beautiful. He didn't have to deal with the complexities of a gruesome past or ugly scars on his skin. He didn't fear going home or fear to be himself. He was unapologetically Phil, through and through. As I listened to him practically screaming to the words to Fire in Cairo, I couldn't help but let a small giggle slip. He looked over at me, slightly startled, and paused the music to begin speaking. "Sorry for my shit singing there, mate. Honestly, I completely forgot that you were next to me." he let out a small laugh. "Anyhow, is it okay if I steal you for a bit before we go home? I kind of want to eat something and get to know you a bit more." I ran over the options. If I were to go with him, I'd have to stay out long enough to where I'd get home at the same time I would if I were staying after school. My mum would kill me if she knew that I was out with a friend, so the only option here is to lie. "Okay, but can we stay out until 6:30? if I'm out of the house after school, I can't go home before then." I voiced quietly. It was obvious that he was straining to hear me, but I was grateful that he didn't mention it. "Alright then. How does Leon sound?" He then put on The Smiths and with Frankly, Mr. Shankly playing in the background, we were on our way.

~

When we arrived at Leon, the place was a lot emptier than expected. I let out a breath of relief at this, I didn't like crowded places that much. Phil nudged my shoulder and I flinched away from his hand. "Sorry, I was just going to ask what you'd like to order, seeing as though we're next in line," he said apologetically. "I'll just have whatever you're having," I said fishing for the money buried deep inside my pocket. "It's my treat." He smiled. Despite my protests, he insisted on paying, and I decided to let the issue go. Once we were seated with our food, Phil set about practically interrogating me about my life. I laughed and went along with it until he got to a certain question. "I heard your mum screaming at you last night you must've done something bloody awful for her to yell at you like that huh?" I froze. I didn't know how to deal with his question. I did do something bloody, and awful. I glanced down at my sleeved forearms. He knew, didn't he? This was all just a ruse so that he could blackmail me or something. I knew this was too good to be true. I ran through my mind all of the possible exits. Glancing at each one as the seconds ticked along. "I'm sorry Dan, I shouldn't have brought that up, I was just curious. Breathe for me okay? I won't mention your mother again," he said sincerely. I calmed down considerably with the knowledge of his lack of knowledge. I looked down at my arms again, then quickly met his gaze. "It's okay, I just don't like talking about my home life much." My voice was a lot shakier than I'd care to admit. "I won't bring it up again" he assured with a smile.

~

After that, we talked until the sun started to disappear behind the horizon, and it was time to go home. I distrusted Phil ever the slightly, but even in the short time we knew each other, he managed to start worming his way into gaining my trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter, please leave any comments/suggestions down below. Thanks for reading, lovelies!


End file.
